Bittersweet
by Rosadina
Summary: Harry Potter reminisces on being a hero.
1. Default Chapter

Harry Potter reminisces on being a hero.

Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling, the rest is mine. No money is being made of this.

You know, I always wondered what it would be like to be a hero. When I was younger, I dreamed of being a hero, of doing things in fairytales. I dreamed of dragons, of unicorns, and feeling the way that hero's do when the rescue the princess in the tower. I wished, I wished so very badly to feel like a hero did, to be brave and noble and courageous. I dreamed of people praising me, looking up at me, and yes, when I really let my imagination run wild I dreamed of people loving me. I dreamed of all the rewards, all the glory and the prestige that being a hero would bring to me, I don't think that I ever really realized the consequences of what I wished for, until it came true. When I turned eleven my whole world was turned upside down. The thing that I had dreamed about for such a long time finally came true, I became a hero. I don think that I truly understood what that meant until after I had faced Voldemort in my first year, looked at my hands and seen them bloody. 

After that it all went downhill, I started to open my eyes and realized that people didn't really see me, they saw the scar, the reputation, and the power that I had, no one saw me. In my second year the lesson was reinforced, the whole school turned against me, and I realized that the saying was true "no matter how much people like hero's, there is nothing more that they like than watching a hero fall" the whole bloody school immediately turned its back on me. I heard a kid call me you know who, I saw kids going out of their way to avoid me. People that I thought were friends suddenly had a million excuses to not be around me anymore and as I watched my life crumble I started to wonder if maybe something like this hadn't happened to Voldemort, that's when I started wondering what exactly caused him to turn from just another kid into the feared Lord Voldemort. Learning that he was Tom Riddle didn't help me either, I started thinking about what made a prefect, a Head Boy, the poster child for perfection go bad, I started wondering, if maybe, just maybe being a hero wasn't all it was cracked up to be. At the end of the year, after I defeated Tom Riddle we had a feast, for most it was just another feast, not for me, for me it was a sick feast because we were rejoicing the second time that I had killed, all for the greater good of course. But I was the hero, I was supposed to sit there and smile and laugh and rejoice about the fact that I'd almost died and killed a human being in the process, again. Somehow, at that moment looking around at everyone's smiling faces, being a hero suddenly didn't seem all that great.

Fast forward two years and Im in a graveyard. After being shunned by the whole school, hounded by the press and made to face things that no normal fourteen year old child should have to face I was ripped from Hogwarts and thrown at the feet of my greatest enemy. I saw a boy die, I saw Voldemort's reincarnation, I dueled with the most feared dark wizard of our time and out of sheer bloody luck I was able to escape. After that a professor that I trusted tried to kill me, I found out that a professor was one of Voldemort's most loyal followers, and then, to top it of I was accused of murder, told that I was insane, that I was a liar and a person not to be trusted. It was like a repeat of my second year where everyone suddenly turned against the hero, kids went out of their way to avoid me, people stopped talking the second I entered a room, and kids that I trusted looked at me with acussation in their eyes. Now I sit here in "the smallest bedroom in privet drive" and I know that next year people will still avoid me as if I were the plague, a dark wizard will still be out to kill me, and people will expect me to smile and laugh and pretend as if everything were fine because I'm a bloody hero. Now, as I set here, waiting for the clock to strike twelve in a house full of muggles that hate me I wonder, I wonder very silently in that small part of me that silently rebels against what society expects of me, If maybe, just maybe I would have been better off not being what I am. I wonder if I would have been better off not being a hero. I wonder if it would not be better if I had never felt that joy of being a hero, a joy that later on turned bittersweet.


	2. 2nd and last part of the prologue

Special thanks to my wonderful, fabulous, fantastic, incredible, out of this world, magnificent (does it show that I looked in a thesaurus?) beta. The one and only eQuasarus!

Thanks to all my reviewers, more detailed responses are at the bottom.

All standard disclaimers apply. I'm only going to say this once. It all belongs to J.K Rowling. The only things that belong to me are some minor characters and the plot. I have read a lot of stories and a lot of things tend to stick so you might recognize some things. There is no attempt of copying someone else's work.

Bittersweet.

It's a funny word isn't it? I remember learning it in third grade. Miss Block was teaching us about oxymorons and she taught us that word. 

Now, thinking about it, I believe that it applies to my situation perfectly. I'm not exactly sure what made me change. Maybe it was Cedric's death. It could have been the return of Lord Voldemort. Perhaps it was that everyone expected me to be strong and devoted, to be the perfect Gryffindor. Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived… What a joke. 

You know what? I don't really care about what made me change; all I care about is the fact that I did. I know that a year, heck, even a few bloody months ago, I wouldn't have thought that the word bittersweet was the perfect word that described my life. A few months ago, I wouldn't be wondering about Voldemort, about his followers, about their lives. Most of all I know that a few months ago, the line between light and dark wasn't the blurry shadow that it is now.

I've had a lot of time to think this summer. About life, death, about Voldemort. The more I think about them the more I want to cry. I haven't cried, really cried, since I was six. It wasn't a conscious decision not to cry. In truth I don't even know if I can anymore. Mione thinks that I have some deep dark secret behind my tearless eyes. She's always worried, always questioning me. She says it's not normal or healthy to bottle my feelings up inside. I think she grew even more worried when I answered her question. 

It was the truth, a simple answer to a simple question.

I've lost count at how many times she's asked, as if she expected a different answer each time. But it's not different, it's always the same '_no, the Dursley's don't abuse me.' _They don't, _physically_. Of course I don't mention that to Mione. Here, sitting alone, I allow myself to see the truth. They don't starve me either, (the may feed me less than their pig of a son but no, they don't starve me.) They never beat me and they weren't at all physically abusive, the just treated me as if I were not there. And that is exactly the problem.

I know that a lot of other kids wish that their guardians paid less attention to them, gave them fewer responsibilities… blah-blah-blah. I'm not one of them. 

Envision for a second being treated for your whole life as if you weren't there. Imagine watching your guardians showering their son with love but treating you as if you didn't deserve that love. Then, maybe, just maybe, you might start to have an inkling as to why I have so many scars on my heart. I may have a scar or two on my body (magic is a wonder at healing those), yet I fell that if there were a spell that could show the heart: mine would be barely visible under the many scars that cover it. 

When I first got to Hogwarts I thought that it would all change. I dreamed, practically every night, of having friends, of being loved, of being appreciated. Magic can do many things (most considered impossible), and I hoped that it might help me. Oh, I was so naïve! Now, looking back, after four years of pain and suffering at this school, where I thought my life might change, I can only smile bitterly. Don't get me wrong, I love Hogwarts. I've had a lot of good times there and that's why, now, looking back it seems so much worse than living with the Dursleys. 

The Dursleys caged me, yes, but they don't hide or disguise the cage. I thought that going to Hogwarts would be my chance to escape from the cage, but instead I just stepped into another one. "_Out of the frying pan and into the fire_" as muggles say. I stepped out of the Dursleys cage and stepped right into a gilded cage. Yes, a cage, even if it was concealed and shrouded with the splendor of gold and diamonds.

Used to my dark dreary cupboard, my sight was at first blinded by the sheer magnificence of the cage. For the first four years of my life the splendor, the glory, the sheer brilliance of it blinded me to the fact that I was still in a cage, no matter how seductive it was. Every time I tried to stretch my wings, I was ruthlessly shoved back down. This was done by many people, but the person who contributed the most to it was the headmaster of Hogwarts; Albus Dumbledore. 

Don't get me wrong, I like that man, I respect him. Heck, for the first four years of my magical education I practically hero-worshipped him. Now that I think about it, I can see how I played right into his hands. I won't say that I'm angry at myself for not seeing it sooner, I was manipulated by a master. 

Another thing that I've noticed that all I ever hear about is the evil and darkness of Slytherins. Everyone talks about the dark wizards, their dark magic, and the murderers that the house produces. No one ever talks about the wonderful people that it helps shape. Last year I was looking through the ministry files to find more information on Crouch and I found something very interesting. 

Most of the ministry members have a file stating where they went to school, and if they went to Hogwarts what house they were in. Looking through all the dusty archives I found something that seemed very interesting to me. Most of the powerful people (the heads of the departments, the ambassadors and many more) were either Ravenclaws or Slytherins. 

The Ravenclaws didn't really surprise me, everyone in Hogwarts knows that most of the Ravenclaws are the smartest people in the school. However, the house that the school sneered at, hated, and ridiculed was the house that produced most of the leaders of the magical world? The thought seemed ridiculous to me at the time, weren't the Slytherins the house that most of Hogwarts was usually righteously angry at? 

Now, thinking about it, I come to a conclusion that seems so obvious to me now that I can barely believe that I missed it at the time. Maybe, just maybe, most of the students at Hogwarts aren't moved by an admirable emotion like righteous indignation maybe they're moved by a much darker emotion; jealousy. Some evidence for this is something that I hear everyday at Hogwarts. 

Ron always complains about the Malfoy's. According to him the Malfoy's are lazy good for nothings who sneer at anything and everything muggle. That is totally not the case. In my research I found out that Lucius Alexander Malfoy is involved in practically every muggle and magical industry there is. Mining, artistry, carpet weaving, exporting, importing, you name it and you will find the Malfoy name in the contracts. 

It all sounds so strange doesn't it? The-Boy-Who-Lived thinking so callously. It's not that, it's that I am no longer an ignorant little boy, I am aware of that those things that go on around me. I am still the same person, Harry Potter. However, the Gryffindor Golden Boy that everyone expects me to be, is not me any longer. Now I see differently, the world is no longer beautiful as it was when I saw through rose colored glasses.

The world, once black and white has turned into a terrifying grey. The line between dark and light becoming increasingly blurred. I'm not evil, I don't think I ever could be. But I do know one thing. I am darker, much darker. I want the world to know that I am aware, no longer the naïve like boy I once was. I'm going back to Hogwarts in a few shorts weeks and only one phrase comes to mind. 

_Let the games begin._

**Hitomi Fanel**- My first reviewer! *Sniff*. As you can see I wrote more.

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If I missed anyone or misspelled anyone's name I'm very sorry. Thanks to everyone!


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